Yukari and Miki's Mundane Adventure
by andyjay18
Summary: Miyuki's and the Hiiragis' moms go shopping together. Can you handle the EXCITEMENT? In color!
1. Chapter 1

"_Ain't nothing gonna break my stride_

_Nobody's gonna slow me down._

_Oh no, I've got to keep on movin'."_

Matthew Wilder, "Break My Stride"

Kagami: And now…

Konata: Hey, Kagamin! Watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!

Kagami: Again? You remember what happened last time… (shudders)

Konata: Ah, don't worry about that. There wasn't _too_ much damage. (reaches into her sleeve) Nothing up my sleeve…and, presto! (reaches into a top hat on a table next to her)

(_Azumanga Daioh_'s Mr. Kimura emerges.) Kimura: HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS! YAAAAAY!

Konata: AHHHH! (She jumps on top of Kimura's head, pushing him back down into the hat.) I gotta get this thing fixed.

Kagami: Now here's something we hope you'll really like! Oh, and this is a work of fanfiction; the author didn't create these characters, yadda yadda yadda.

_There was something I was supposed to do today_, thought Yukari Takara one sunny morning, _but what was it?_ Stymied by frustration over her lack of memory, she turned off the vacuum cleaner and stared at the red string her daughter had tied around her right pointer finger to help her remember. Then she noticed the clock on the mantle. "Oh!" she gasped. "I know it is time for _The Red String of Love_! I'll get back to you later, Vacuum-san." And she dashed to the couch to turn on her favorite soap opera.

"…arrested 21 Tokyo University students outside the gates of Yokota Air Force Base. The students were protesting the top-secret American military project known as Operation Arrowhead, which has been rumored to involve radioactive…"

"Oh my, Miyuki-chan must've left the news channel on last night," Yukari said. She quickly changed the channel just in time for the announcer to say, "_The Red String of Love_ will return after these messages." The childish housewife sighed in frustration as a M******d's commercial came on. _Although a Quarter Pounder _would _taste nice right about now. I wonder what they call Quarter Pounders in America… Was it something about beef? Maybe I could call Miyuki-chan on her cellphone and ask, but I don't want to bother her during class, and I'm not sure I remember her number…_

Just then the microwave beeped to remind her that the tea she had left in there before starting the vacuum had been finished a minute ago. "Ah! Coming, Microwave-san!" Yukari gasped. As she ran into the kitchen, she was also reminded that she had left the vacuum's electric cord strung across the entryway to the room. Panicking, she grabbed out at the cloth on their breakfast nook's table, bringing it, a napkin holder and the newspaper to the floor along with her. Yukari groaned as she got back upright, pushing the paper off her face. An ad was printed on the page, bold characters announcing: "BIG BEEF BLOWOUT! One day only! June 1 at the Nerima Da**i supermarket! All beef at ½ price!"

"Oh, _that's_ what I was supposed to do today!" she remarked. Of course; her husband was returning home from a business meeting in Hong Kong tonight and she was planning to make filet mignon. She left the ad by her side when she returned to the couch to finish her show so she wouldn't forget this time. After showering and getting dressed, she was on her way.

"Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride, nobody gonna slow me down; oh no, I've got to keep on movin'…" Yukari crooned off-key, not knowing the meaning of the English lyrics she was hearing on her old Walkman, but not caring. _As long as it's a good rhythm_, was her philosophy (one of Yukari Takara's very few). The other passengers on the train gazed and muttered amongst themselves as the pinkette gyrated to the music as much as she could in the tight crowd. Her traveling companions only rolled their eyes when her elbows and hips occasionally struck them. Then all of a sudden she had a bit more space to dance. _Ah, that's nice_, she thought. _Did everybody move? And it looks like the doors are open…Ahh! I should be getting off now!_ She managed to slip out the train doors just as they started closing. Unfortunately, she didn't look where she was going.

"OOF!" she grunted as she collided with a woman crossing her path, sending them both to the ground, Yukari slightly atop the other woman. The other passersby on the train platform gasped and jumped away in shock, except for one scruffy-haired man with foggy glasses and his jaw hanging open. He walked by, casually took his cellphone from his pocket, snapped a picture of the two prostrate women, and then placed it back in without breaking his stride. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!" he then shouted in English in a hollow, crowlike voice.

"Ah, I'm so sorry," Yukari said as she returned to her senses. "It's just…I haven't listened to Walkman-kun in years and I got distracted and almost missed my stop. My daughter sometimes does the same thing, only with books instead of music." The other woman groaned as she picked herself up off the platform, straightening out her clothes and reaching for her dropped purse. Yukari finally got a good look at her; she had long, straight, dark purple hair. "Say, you look familiar," she said.

The other woman noticed Yukari and her eyes widened. "Oh my…! Well yes, I'm Miki Hiiragi, Kagami and Tsukasa's mother. Your daughter is a friend of theirs, right?"

Yukari's eyes popped fully open. "Ah yes! I remember now! Well, fancy meeting you here, and in such circumstances! So what are you doing down here in the city? You live quite a ways out, right?"

Miki smiled and fished the same newspaper ad for the Da**i beef sale out of her purse. "I showed this to Tsukasa and she said she'd be glad to make us sukiyaki for dinner tonight. She really should be focusing on studying now, but, well, you don't get a chance for sukiyaki too often."

"Ah, what a coincidence," Yukari replied, beaming. "I'm going to the same sale. My husband's coming home from a business trip tonight, and Miyuki-chan thought it would be nice to make filet mignon for dinner. We aren't as good at cooking as Tsukasa, but it's still the thought that counts, right?"

"I think just about everybody in the Kanto Region will be having beef for dinner tonight," Miki answered. Sure enough, as they left the station, they saw large crowds streaming into the Da**i supermarket next door to the train station.

"Race you to the front door!" Yukari said, as she pulled out a shopping cart from a rack in front of the store.

"You…want to race shopping carts?" Miki replied. "No offense, but isn't that something only little kids do? And besides, you could hurt somebody or damage the merchandise."

"Well, I try to avoid other people and…"

"No racing!" Miki muttered, facepalming.

"Aww!" Yukari groaned. "It's just…this would be just another day at the supermarket if we didn't find some way to make it _fun_!"

"Well, not everything is some kind of adventure," Miki answered. "Some things in life may not be so exciting, but they still have to be done."

"I know," said Yukari. "But that doesn't mean you can't try and make it fun! My sister and I used to race shopping carts all the time when we were kids! And then there was that time when I was stuck in a really long checkout line, and I imagined a pterodactyl flew into the store…"

_I thought Miyuki was the smart one in Kagami and Tsukasa's circle of friends_, Miki thought. _How on earth did she come from…_her? _Although…I occasionally liked taking frozen shrimp from the seafood section and dropping it in the live lobster tank… _She certainly wouldn't tell Yukari about that, of course. Or how, when no one was looking, she _occasionally_ liked to run with a shopping cart down the aisle, then jump on the back and hang on until it coasted to a stop.

"Wow, look at all those jars of balsamic vinegar," Yukari breathed, gazing up at the large stack of jars on display past the ranks of cash registers. "Wouldn't it be a mess if those fell over?"

"Ugh, you almost sound like you _want_ that to happen," Miki replied. "Oh my, look at those crowds in the meat section."

"Ah, that's horrible!" said Yukari. "I'm gonna go and pick up some other stuff on my list until the crowd dies down."

"But the beef sale is why we're here in the first place!" said Miki. "By the time you're done, everything will be gone!"

"But I hate crowds!" Yukari whined.

"Suit yourself. But sometimes you just have to wait in line or put up with a crowd," Miki said. She rolled her eyes after turning away from Yukari and made her way into the fray.

Cheery as ever, Yukari pulled her headphones back on and put on an old mix tape. Her first stop was for some pickled daikon. Calmly disregarding the other shoppers' eyes widening and looking at her, she opened a jar and sniffed it. "Hmm, that one could use a little more time," she said. She then screwed the top back on and placed the jar back on its shelf. Then she reached for the next jar. It too didn't smell quite ripe enough.

"Look at 'em. Like pigs at the trough," muttered the gaunt janitor to his partner. "They always kid themselves at how organized their society is, but dangle a good deal in front of them, and they're like sharks smelling blood in the water."

"Y-you really think we can do this?" answered the chubby young man standing next to him. "There's only three of us, and so many of them…"

"Hey, that's why we planned this for today. And just as I expected, look at that crowd in the meat section. With most of them backed into a corner like that, we can keep them herded like sheep. Once us shepherds get our 'staffs'." A smirk drew across his thin face. "You want your brother bailed out, right?"

"Yeah, but…I don't wanna join him in prison."

"That's why Petrov has a ride ready at the loading dock. Two hours from now we'll be out of the city. By tonight we'll be on the road to Hokkaido, then on Fukuhara's fishing boat over to Russia. And while I make my way down to the Philippines for my little…business, you can wire your brother the bail money _and _pay for a decent lawyer and extradition plane ticket back to Japan; meanwhile you can lay low with Petrov's cousin in Vladivostok."

"Hey, I know about your plan; you didn't have to explain it all to me again," the chubby man said. "It's just, well…I guess you could call it cold feet."

The thin man batted an eyebrow. "How cold do you think your brother's feet are? You know what happens to people in _American_ jails?"

"Oh God! But c'mon man, a lotta people have done acid…"

"At Disney World, maybe. I doubt so many others went swimming naked in Cinderella's Castle moat afterwards. And I'd imagine most of his new _friends_ might just consider that a weak cover story for exhibitionism or even, umm, child mol…"

"Okay, okay! It's just…I haven't pulled off a job this big before! Or taken hostages!"

"Welp, first time for everything. Okay then. Three, two, one…" The two peeled off their gray janitors' jumpsuits, pulled on ski masks in their pockets, and pulled rifles out of their clothing. The thin man fired at the ceiling. "NOBODY MOVE! This is a robbery!"

Screams broke out among the crowd as the fat man pointed his gun toward the customers gathered around the meat section. The thin man, pointing his weapon straight forward, walked toward the cash registers. "Right, now do as we say. Hands where we can see them! Empty those registers. C'mon!" There was a series of clacks as the clerks complied with the thin man's request. After he had taken all the bills, he turned to the last clerk. "All right, do you know the combination to the store safe?"

"Hey man, look at my tag! I-I've only been working here three months!"

"Okay then. Any of you know the store safe combination?" he called out to the other clerks, who flatly muttered "no".

"Dammit, this better not be a delay until the cops get here! Where's the store manager?"

"H-he isn't in today. We have his phone number, though," said a slightly chubby college-age girl with glasses.

"Well then, call him up now. Tell him that we got hostages at his store, and he and the police might like to know that until we get that combo, we're gonna shoot one person every ten minutes! And if anyone tries to be a hero, they're dead. Got that?" A chorus of groans, squeals and some screams passed through the store. The thin man motioned with his hand, and the fat man strode up to the meat section and seized Miki by her left wrist. Her eyes widened and the color immediately drained from her face.

"Well, what the hell are you waiting for?" the thin man barked. "Call up that manager or my partner's gonna turn that lovely lady into a Jackson Pollock painting!"

Meanwhile, Yukari Takara was still browsing through the pickled vegetables section, occasionally unscrewing jars to examine whether the goods inside were fresh, and listening to an old song on her Walkman.

"_Yosomi o suru no wa yamete yo!/ Watashi ga dare yori ichiban /Suki yo... suki yo... suki yo…"_ she sang to herself.

_A/N: Am I the first writer to use the name "Vladivostok" in a _Lucky Star_ story?_

_Also, thumbs up if you caught the Stephen King references, as well as one to a classic anime series._

_And Daiei (or Da**i here) is a real Japanese supermarket chain._


	2. Chapter 2

_Our producers wish to thank the United States Marine Corps, the French Foreign Legion, the Japanese Self-Defense Forces, the British Commonwealth Occupation Authorities, the Hong Kong Fireworks Factory, American Cartoon Mechanism Enterprises (ACME), DSX Machinery Ltd. (except in Nebraska), the Town of Windsor Locks, Connecticut, Samuel L. Jackson, bitches, John Christoe, Lady Gaga's wardrobe, the letter Q and the number 18, without whom all this would not have been necessary._

Miki Hiiragi was breathing at a mile a minute, yet she also felt like she was choking. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears with the sound of storm-driven waves on a beach. Every nerve in her body was supercharged with electricity, yet she dared not make the slightest move. If she did, of course, she would die. Oh, people threatened each other with guns all the time on TV or in movies, but watching those scenes, people didn't realize the horror of actually having a loaded gun barrel planted in your right temple. Far from feeling like some wisecracking action heroine, she felt utterly helpless, marooned on a narrow ledge with the abyss of death on one side and a towering, vertical cliff on the other.

And where was Yukari? How long could her chipper devil-may-care attitude last in this situation?

The glasses-wearing female clerk was openly sobbing as she waited for the store manager to answer the phone. "I'm s-s-sorry…I just keep getting his answering machine. He must be on a l-lunch break or something, or…oh God, today's his _golf day!_"

"Well then, call up his cellphone, bitch!" said the thin man. "I want this situation over with as quickly as you do!"

The girl's face crumpled as she began crying even harder. "I d-d-don't know his nu-num…"

The thin man punched his left hip. "Son of a bitch! Well, does he have a secretary at his other office?"

"I think he might've mentioned that…"

"Call her up and tell her that while Manager-sama is out trying to work on his backswing and deciding which of you to lay off next, people are gonna be dying in his store. I'm sure the chamber of commerce will greatly appreciate that."

"Mmm, such a lovely bottle," Yukari said, admiring some D*m Per****n champagne. "I don't believe we've had any bubbly in a while, and tonight would certainly be a fine occasion. But first for the smell…"

Not surprisingly, the cork refused to budge with just a simple tug.

"Oh my, such a naughty boy!" replied Yukari. "Well don't you worry, I'll get you off soon enough." And she grasped her right hand around the bottle's long shaft and started trying to twist off the stubborn cork with her left.

Although Yukari, like her daughter, had also once done quite well in her high school sports festivals, those days were almost a quarter-century in the past. "Rrrrghh!" she groaned, straining against the cork. "Ummph! Aummph! Ah-aaaa_aaah!_"

"Oh_ my!_" she gasped, pausing to wipe some sweat off her left temple. "Not going down easy, are you? Well then, I guess I'll need some more leverage," she said, using a word she'd occasionally overheard from Miyuki and which she thought might make her sound smarter.

Yukari then placed the bottle between her legs and resumed straining at the cork.

"On _hold? On hold?_" groaned the thin man in the ski mask. "Do those jackasses know what's at stake here? What the hell do they think of their customers?"

"I'm s-s-sorry, sir…they just…all I'm getting now is Muzak…"

The thin man gritted his teeth. "Well, I hoped it wouldn't have to come to this, but sometimes there's only one way to get some people up off their asses." He looked towards the fat man and Miki. "Fire when ready, kid."

Miki's heard leapt into her throat. Her mouth went dry and her toes involuntarily curled inside her shoes as her lips silently moved in a final prayer. But just before she completely shut her eyes for the final time, she felt that the fat man's left hand, clasping her lower torso, was violently shaking. Time seemed to be passing slower for her in this state, yet it seemed that at least twenty seconds had passed since the thin man shouted out his command.

"Well, c'mon! What are you waiting for?"

"Uhhh," the fat man moaned.

"Are you…sure you want to do this?" Miki blurted.

"W-what?"

"I have four daughters. Two of them are in college now, and the other two will be graduating high school next year. Do you want there to be an empty seat at their graduation? Do you want them to someday tell their children that the reason they don't have a grandma is because she once just picked the wrong day to go shopping? And my husband…he owns a shrine, but he once said that I'm much more important to him than the shrine. He's prayed several times for us to die at the same time…he can't bear the thought of living a day without me. I am a miko—I am prepared for the next world. Are you? And more importantly, do you think you can live with the burden of removing me from my husband and daughters' lives?" Miki's voice shook at the end of her speech.

"I…I…I…uhh, I don't kn…"

"Hey, don't let yourself be taken in by some broad's maudlin little filibuster!" snapped the thin man. "This is what we do, and sometimes our business ain't pretty. You can't let those little voices get in the way, especially at times like this! Now pull the trigger!"

Miki felt the metallic pressure against her head give way, followed shortly by a clack against the floor. "No," said the fat man. "I'm not doing it. I can't kill someone with kids. And besides, she's a miko; wouldn't killing a miko be bad luck?"

The thin man's eyes narrowed behind the holes in his ski mask. "Oh, is that so? So you want us to just take what we have now and get out before the cops get here? We can't, man. I counted; we still don't have nearly what my boss needs or what _you_ need for your brother's defense…let alone what Mendez wants. So unless you want your brother to get the _full_ American experience in the jailhouse showers, we gotta get that loot in the safe, and to do that, we gotta do some…persuading."

"But couldn't we have just hit another bank?"

"Like I've been telling you, dipshit, the cops are starting to figure out our M.O. with banks, especially at night. John Dillinger once said he robbed banks 'because that's where the money is'; that's also why he got caught too."

"B-but I didn't get into this to kill innocent people…"

The thin man turned his gun toward the fat one. "You think I liked it too when I started out? No one does. But dammit, once you're in, you're in. You just gotta remember the fortune and glory at the end…and of your superior allowing you to live another day. I sure as hell know Mendez won't be happy if we abort this mission, and if you think _I'm_ a nasty son of a bitch… The guy's got hired guns all over the globe, people who make Anton Chigurh look like Hirasawa Yui. And besides, where do you think you'll be if you drop out now? On the run from the cops and Mendez's men, hiding out in dumpsters and drainage ditches, maybe the woods if you're lucky. And I know you; they'll find you eventually, and you'll be in the same shit as your brother. And if you survive prison—they pass fat softies like you around like change in there—then what? I'll tell you what you're gonna do. You're gonna get a job. That's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get a little job. Some job a convict can get, like scraping off trays in a cafeteria. Or cleaning out toilets. _You listenin' to me?_ And when that man walks in at the end of the day, and he comes to see how you done, you ain't gonna look in his eyes. You gonna look at the floor. Because you don't want to see that fear in his eyes when you jump up and grab his face, and slam him to the floor, and make him scream and cry for his life, and then guess what? You'll be a ruthless hardass just like me, and you'll be able to kill even…Hello Kitty without so much as a blink. So you look right at the floor, man. _Pay attention to what I'm sayin', motherfucker_!"

The fat man was crying now. "I'm s-s-sorry," he blubbered. "I-I-I just can't _kill someone_!"

The thin man steadied his gun. "Sucks for you. 'Cause I can, and I have."

Every muscle in Yukari Takara's upper arm and hand stood out as she strained against the champagne cork. It seemed her grip was somewhat more secure on it now, but it still showed no sign of giving way. She clamped her thighs more firmly against the hard green glass.

"Dear me!" she gasped between pushes. "Ah…ahhh…" Sweat trickled down her face. Her cheeks grew bright pink, fading to red. Her nostrils flared as the speed of her breathing increased. And yet still the cork remained, stubborn as ever. "Unnh…unnnnnhhh!"

Somewhere in the back of Yukari's mind a voice (which sounded rather like Miyuki) was telling her that her appearance and actions were not quite appropriate for a public setting, but as usual, she ignored it. She…just…had…to…get…that…cork _off!_

Then a light went on in another part of her brain. "Ah, maybe I should try _shaking_ you too!" And with the bottle still wedged between her legs, she began shaking it hard as possible.

Clasping the bottle's long neck, she shook until her hands were both numb. Then, concentrating all her strength, she drove away at the cork. She then repeated the process two more times. Her hands and thighs had become numb and sore, but she wasn't tired. The effort actually increased her determination. "Rrrrghhh…ahhhhh…" she groaned. "Come on…come onnnnn…" There was a small groan as the cork moved…barely noticeable at first, but soon enough slightly looser.

"Almosssst…" Yukari growled, as she rocked the bottle back and forth with all her might. There was a slight hissing from below the cork. She stopped shaking and drove into it again. "Ah…ahhhhhhAHHHHH!"

_ShhhhhhhUMPP!_ The cork flew from the bottleneck on a column of white spray. Yukari's knees gave out, and she slumped to the floor, gasping. Sweat dampened her flushed face and tensed arms, and the champagne foam draped back over her body, soaking her white blouse and gray-blue skirt. For about half a minute, the childish housewife just sat there, listening to the tiny bubbles hissing on her clothes and skin and the floor; her breathing rather hard.

Then, all of a sudden, she sprang to her feet and rushed toward the women's restroom. Hopefully no one else would be in there.

The champagne could wait. She'd gotten a whiff of it when she was splashed, and it smelled fine.

"C'mon, man," the thin man snarled, "if you wanna actually see your brother go free, pick up the gun and do your job. Otherwise…well, either way, this broad's life is gonna end here and now."

"Like I said," the fat man sobbed, "I'm not killing a miko! Especially one with kids! If you wanna shoot someone…shoot _me!_ Come on! Go for it!" He stepped away from Miki. "Right between the eyes!"

"Hey, you forget that she's our bargaining chip here, as in we tell the cops; you come in and the broad gets it. I could just kill you and her right now, gangland-style, or right afterwards as sort of an insubordination thing, or Mendez's goons will be on you like ants on sugar once they get word. She's our captured queen; you're just a pawn."

"S-so if I'm so…fucking worthless," the fat man said, "why're you taking so long? Why am I still alive if I'm just a pawn? I…I could give up now, go out to the police, m-maybe tell 'em all about our little operation, about Mendez, about the guerrillas in the Phillipines, about Petrov and Yukio and the dru…"

Just as the fat man uttered the world "operation", there came a hollow thudding sound, almost like a muffled gunshot. At this the thin man jerked, then his head started to crane in it direction. Then there was a high-pitched _zing_, much like an actual gunshot richochet. But instead of a bullet, a champagne cork careened off the supermarket ceiling, then struck a large economy-sized jar of balsamic vinegar with a hard _tunk!_ Time seemed to stand still for a beat, then slowly regain momentum like a train leaving a station, as the jar toppled forward, fell almost like a tumbling autumn leaf, and then come in contact with the thin man's right arm, which happened to be holding his gun.

A sharp bang. The thin man grunted and grimaced in agony as the white puff of gunsmoke floated by his face. To Miki Hiiragi, the sharp report filled the world, reverberating inside her head, drowning out the screams of the other shoppers surrounding her. Something warm and liquid splashed against the side of her head. Her mind screamed at her left hand not to touch it, but it went anyway.

It was spongy yet mixed with some white shards, bright crimson with some specks of pink.

She felt as if she were underwater when she turned around to see the fat man lying on the floor, a huge, bleeding hole where his face used to be. She then felt a hot, wet gush in the area of her crotch and didn't care. She also didn't care when she involuntarily jerked away, bent over, and emptied her stomach contents at her feet.

The thin man dropped his gun as the vinegar jar collided with the floor. "AUUUUGHHHH! My arm! It's brokennnn! YAAARRRRGHHH!" His cries of pain were interrupted when he noticed the figure lying prone on the floor next to his now-puking hostage. "Whoa…whoa…man. I didn't mean to…I wasn't gonna…no…no…nooooo…OWWW!" he groaned as he shambled over to his fallen partner, meanwhile favoring his injured arm. When he arrived at the fat man's body, he collapsed to his knees. "No way…noooo…I wasn't really gonna do it, man…I wasn't really gonnaaaa…you know I gotta be forceful sometimes, kid, but I wasn't really gonna…YAAAOWWWW! I didn't mean to…I didn't meeeeann toooo…YA-HA-HAAAOWWW!" he blubbered, his sobs mixing with his cries of pain.

"Ah, that's much better," Yukari breathed as she left the women's room, her face still a bit sweaty and flushed. "A bit awkward, but I suppose there's a first time for everything." She wondered if she should tell her husband that night when he got home…and giggled sweetly. She was hoping to make it a special night… But anyway, now that she had all her other needed items, she could fulfill the original intent of this trip to the supermarket and pick up the beef.

Her violet eyes went wide at the sight that beheld her.

Near the large stack of vinegar jars, lying on the floor, was what looked like a gun. Of course, it was probably just some toy. And, unfortunately, it looked like one of the jars had fallen off the stack and smashed. Had there been an earthquake while she was in the little girls' room, or something (not counting the world moving)? Then, in the meat department, she noticed two figures; a large man lying on the floor, and a smaller one kneeling at him. Had the large man had a heart attack? She wished she'd gone with Miyuki to that CPR class; then she could at least help him. But then, to the left, she noticed a larger crowd gathered around a thin, dark-purple haired woman. She was crouched on the floor in front of what looked like vomit, her skin chalky, and a haunted, stunned expression on her face.

"H-Hiiragi-san!" she gasped. "Are you…you look like you've been sick! Is everything all…"

Miki Hiiragi would have loved to have seen her husband or one of her daughters come up to her right then, but of course her daughters were at school and her husband was at work. She had only met Yukari Takara a few times now, but at that moment she needed _some_ semblance of normality, some sign that somewhere the band was playing and somewhere hearts were light. Some reminder that not every person could kill Hello Kitty at the drop of a hat, and not every person was just a pawn in some unspeakable game. Most of all, in her weakening state of mind, she needed a shoulder to cry on.

"Takara-saaan!" she bawled, falling onto Yukari's right shoulder and bursting into tears. "Takara-sa-ha-ha-haaaan!"

Yukari Takara was not the most perspective person on Earth by any means, but ever since her only daughter had gone off to preschool, whenever she came home crying or just looking down, her first instinct was to give her a hug. And so she wrapped her arms around Miki's trunk, patting her on the back. Miki responded by wrapping her arms around Yukari's back and clinging on as if for dear life.

The sobbing, purple-haired woman didn't care as the thin cried over his fallen companion, or as the police sirens grew louder until they were right in front of the store, or as the cops yelled to come out with your hands up, dirtbag, or as the blubbering thin man came out, holding up his left arm and occasionally wincing with pain.

_I've been working on this story on and off for about a year now. I didn't know if I was going to release it since I couldn't figure out how to end it…until only about last weekend. Hope you think it was worth it._

_The end (and also further development of the OC's) came to me rereading a line from one of my favorite movies, _Runaway Train_, starring John Voight and Rebecca DeMornay (okay, not so much the actual circumstances of the end, but more the impetus to finally finish this beastie). I kinda paraphrased the thin man's speech about "get(ting) a little job" from the movie. As you might guess, I'd recommend seeing it (although it is pretty violent and dark, and it may end up leaving you as jaded as me). The main premise of this shindig was partially based on Stephen King's _The Mist_ (again, if you've read it, you'd know why) and there's also some references to an _Azumanga_ fic called "Control" (which, of course, is also quiiiite grimdark but really well-done; you might not see the characters the same way again after reading, heh. It's in my favorites)._

_And, well…that's about it. I don't really think anyone learned anything here, but, well, I usually don't write stories with a moral in mind. Unless it's that oftentimes chance occurrences save the day rather than book smarts. But meh, that's kinda how my writing style works anyway._


End file.
